


Something New

by Andian



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was trying to finish the script and he was determined to do it too, no matter the misconceptions his crayon had about the color wheel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brutti_ma_buoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutti_ma_buoni/gifts).



_The dogs are running tonight. Can't you hear them? Don't worry, they can hear you._

He sits at his chair, fingers drumming in a nervous beat, before he strikes out the words. “No, no,” he mumbles to himself, “This will not do. This _won't_ do.”  
Opening a document on his computer he thinks about looking through the community calendar since he still needs to fill five more minutes, but all the symbols on his computer monitor are flipped around and every time he tries to click on a symbol an error message comes up, telling him that the support for this version had ended three minutes.

There is no indication for what version exactly. He frowns. “Carlos? Did you do science with our computer again?” he then yells and silence answers him before him remembers. He blinks once and then once more and then he sighs and tells himself to not check his mobile phone for new messages before he has finished writing the show.

_They are listening. They are always listening.  
And the dogs are waiting for you._

Once more he strikes out what he has just written and decides that he really, _really_ needs that community calendar. He tries to remember at least parts of it but the only thing he can come up with is the fact that the Sheriff Police had canceled the cancellation of that one canceled thing that he couldn't remember.. And something about a bake sale at the Night elementary school. Maybe. He is rocking his chair backwards and forwards, chewing on the wax crayon he was using to write his script before making a face at the taste. The blue ones really taste better than the red ones, also he has always hated the color red. Determined he stands up, deciding to get a new, blue, wax crayon since really, certain journalistic standard had to be uphold.

Looking through his cupboard he finds two boxes filled with nothing but red crayons. Frowning he stares at them. He is quite sure that he has bought multicolored once but then Carlos might have done something to them. A fond yet slightly bitter smile appears on his face and he quickly closes the cupboard again. Better not mess with that stuff. He is into science but really not _that_ much. 

Turning back to his desk he suddenly sees something blue of the corner of his eyes. With a triumphant grin he picks up a blue crayon that had rolled under his desk, almost invisible if you were not looking at it from a certain point of view, just like that one picture in the Night Vale museum that looks like a rabbit. From a certain point of view.

Sitting down he straightens his shoulder, deciding to finish this script once and for all. He has been sitting here for a long time. He can't quite remember _how_ long exactly but he is quite sure that it has been a long time. Community calendar it is, he decides, and put his crayon on the paper.

He notices at the second m that something is wrong. Frowning he looks at the red of the letters in front of him, then at the blue crayon he is holding. Hesitantly he continues writing, only to have the rest of the letters come out as red as the ones before.

With a flicker his computer then suddenly turns back on, even though he can not remember turning it off and another error message reminds him that the support of this version had ended. This time there is another sentence, telling him that the new version is currently getting installed and that some software errors could be experienced. Impatiently he turns off the computer monitor.

Red crayons, that he can, sort of, deal with. Computers, not so much. He much preferred some old-fashioned technology, at least you could rely on those. Like an itch the sudden urge to check his mobile phone for new messages of Carlos comes over him but he ignores it and stands up instead.

He'd get himself a sandwich, he decides. He's hungry. At least he thinks he is. He suddenly can't remember when he has last eaten or what, even though it is, or can't, have been that long ago. His mind draws a blank however when he tries to remember a time when he has not been in this room, trying to finish the script, ignoring his mobile phone.

_It's dark where you are. It's dark and lonely. If you go with the dogs it will only be dark._

He wonders if he should quickly write this down, but he thinks that he can totally remembers this until after his quick snack. Stretching he walks towards the door, reaching for the door handle and bashes against the door instead. Confused he stares at it. The door handle is still there. It looks like it exists, like it's just right there when he looks at it and he touches the door which still feels real so it should make more sense for the door handle to be there than for it not to be. But it the door handle is still not there.

With a tone that he knows from somewhere he can't remember his computer turns on and he turns around to see a message telling him that the installation had been successful and there would now be a reboot. The tone hat he knows from somewhere he can't remember sounds again and he remembers where he knows it from but it is too late then.

He sits at his desk and finishes the script then, happy that he has found a single red crayon between the pile of multicolored ones since red had always been his favorite color.

 _And they have watched you from the dark,_ he writes. _And they have waited for you to become something better. And then the cats have come for you._


End file.
